Reconciled
by NancyMay
Summary: For some time I have wondered what would happen if Alice Harvey's mother turned up. Why and what does she have to say. This was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up rambling away by itself, all I ask is that you be kind.
1. Chapter 1

Alice giggled. She had planned a quiet evening, a book and a whisky.

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The case had been solved, the victim identified and the murderer brought to book. He was now languishing in the cells at the station awaiting the move to Melbourne for trial. She had taken the lead in the morgue and Matthew had been happy to listen to her findings and use them as evidence in the case.

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It was rare for her planning to go awry, though she didn't mind, this time. She had been seeing Matthew since the Blake's wedding, on and off, to start with, then, by the time the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon they were more on than off. So much more that he had a robe on the back of her bedroom door, a change of clothes in a drawer, and a key. The station knew that if they couldn't get him at the Blake's then the next best thing was Dr Harvey's, and neither of them cared. The station didn't, either; Superintendent Lawson was a heck of a lot easier to work with now.

Anyway, she had left the morgue and headed home, planning a bath, a book and a whisky. As she lay in the bath, soaking away the smell of antiseptic, the door went.

"Only me, Alice," he had called through to the back of the bungalow.

"In the bath," was her answering call.

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The water had to be warmed up at least once before they got out, then the bathroom floor had to be seen to; they dropped towels to soak up the water they had splashed over the side, and Matthew pulled another off the pile and wrapped his lover in the soft fabric.

Now they sat together on the couch dressed only in their robes, a whisky each, she snuggled against his broad chest, warm, content. He reached round and took her glass from her and placed it on the side table. He bent down to nibble her neck and earlobe, slipped his hand inside her robe and started to gently caress her breast. She moaned her appreciation and moved her head so he could make his way down her neck.

When she had first allowed Matthew to make love to her, she had expected a rough, quick coupling, designed to satisfy him more than her, but what she had found was a considerate and gentle lover, who took his time to explore her with his tongue, his fingers and his eyes. Over time he had kissed just about every part of her and she had learned to respond, to do the same to him, and for the first time she had felt truly desired.

He also had an interesting line in rather rude suggestions, which she would giggle at and reply with,

"Do you think your knee will withstand that, Superintendent?" she would tease and he would show her that his knee was not what she had to worry about.

He was teasing her with his fingers on her breasts and down her stomach, blowing gently down inside her robe and delighting in the shivers he felt coursing through her body. She shifted and sighed, then giggled at another of his ideas.

"Shall we?" he moved his hand and ran his finger along her jawbone, tipping her face to his so he could kiss her. He undid the tie of her robe, it fell open and he lifted her so she was facing him. As she went to undo the tie of his robe there was a sharp rap on the door.

"No!" she hissed, raising her eyebrows, "maybe they'll go away, if we're quiet."

He pulled her so she was lying over him, not the best position to be 'quiet' in. There was another, more insistent rap.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed.

"Don't move," she winked and slipped off him.

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She stood at the door, smoothed down her robe, now with the tie secure, and took a deep breath. If it was Lucien Blake there were things she could do to him with various medical instruments that would render him useless to his lovely wife.

She opened the door, ready with a smart remark, and stopped short.

"Mother?!" she exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"

"I've come to stay," the visitor snipped, "with my daughter."

In the living room Matthew froze. He was trapped. The room was next to the front door, he couldn't sneak out and make himself scarce, or hide in the bedroom, or bathroom. Not even a blind man could mistake what he was there for and her mother ... it was worth than being a randy teenager, caught by the girlfriend's parents. On the other hand, what on earth _was_ she doing there, so late at night?

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Over time Alice had told him much of her childhood and her mother had not come out of it well, in fact she Alice had described her as unloving, vicious, that she had not believed her when she told her her uncle was touching her, and more, at night, in her bed. Not even when Alice was twelve, and her mother had found her dear sainted brother curled up on Alice's bedroom floor, clutching his genitals while Alice stood there, holding a heavy encyclopaedia, did she blame him. It was all Alice's fault, she had screamed at her as the slip of a girl stood shaking and crying. Alice had determined that night that no one would touch her, any way, any time, unless she wanted them to. It had taken years, she told Matthew, years before she could even shake hands with a man without feeling repulsed.

"So, how did you learn to take it?" he had asked, stroking his finger between her breasts after they had made love one night.

"Lucien," she smiled, simply, "he touched my hands, one day in the morgue. You know how he touches people, but ... that was all, it was a gentle pat over some sad story that I don't even remember. It was then I knew that not all men are after one thing, though in your case ..." she teased.

"Well," he moved over her, "thank you, Lucien Blake."

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He stood up and adjusted his robe, tying the belt firmly. Perhaps they should brazen it out, but he would wait to see what happened next.

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"Well," Mrs Harvey sniffed, "aren't you going to invite me in?"

Alice stood wordlessly aside. It was too late to turn the woman out onto the streets and she wasn't going to have that get out. It would damage both her and Matthew's reputation. Matthew?... what was she going to do? She wasn't ashamed of their relationship and everyone they knew accepted it. She had even gone to a dinner hosted by the retiring Commissioner of Police, in Melbourne, as his partner. The Commissioner had been charming and his wife, who had some English title, she forgot which it was, was bright, lively and had immediately caught on that they were not just professional partners.

"I always thought Matthew Lawson was a bit stiff," she had laughed, "but it would seem not, Dr Harvey, good for you." She had added the last in a whisper. Alice had asked Matthew about them, later, and he had told her how Mrs Robinson had met her husband over a corpse and gradually they had become a formidable crime solving pair. They had married after she had gone to England and he had taken extended leave to follow her. The story was legend in the Victoria force.

Mrs Harvey looked round the hall and noticed the living room door close, softly. So, her daughter had a guest? Well, she was her mother and she took priority, or at least, that was the way she saw it.

Alice showed her the second bedroom, that she never used. In fact the bed wasn't even made up, and she was thinking of turning it into a study, or small library, she had a lot of books that needed putting on shelves.

"I'll fetch some linen," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Tea, would be nice," her mother noted.

Alice groaned and wondered how Matthew was faring in the living room. She hoped he wouldn't come over all noble and leave. Mrs Harvey watched Alice make the bed up, pursing her lips and folding her arms. Neither spoke.

Alice showed her the bathroom, silently relieved that they had tidied up after the bath time shenanigans, and went to make tea. As the door to the bathroom closed, Matthew opened the living room door and joined her in the kitchen. She was standing in front of the electric kettle, gripping the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He padded up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Alice," he whispered, "what's going on?"

"I don't know," she stared at the kettle, "I didn't know she had my address. It's too late to find her a guest house ..."

"Want me to go?"

"Please don't," she turned, tears in her eyes, "I don't think I can do this alone."

"If you're sure," he pulled her against him, "no hiding what we are?"

"No," she shook her head, "if Commissioner Robinson doesn't have a problem ..."

He smiled, "well his wife didn't."

She couldn't help but giggle.

"I hope you are going to warm the pot," a snide voice behind them broke the mood.

Alice turned and reached for the small teapot, truth was she was just going to drop a teabag in a cup, but she wasn't going to be accused of not making proper tea. Matthew reached round her for a cup and saucer.

Mrs Harvey watched them, or rather the man. He was tall, broad shouldered and hid her daughter from her view. She sat at the table and waited. She had noticed that everything in Alice's house was neat, even the little bedroom had been dusted recently, the kitchen was clean and tidy, there was nothing out of place - except for the presence of a man. She never imagined her stiff, cold daughter would have any friends, much less a male friend, and she was sure he was more than a 'friend', he was, after all, wearing a dressing gown.

Alice placed the tea in front of her mother and Matthew added a small jug of milk and the sugar bowl.

Mrs Harvey took especial notice of her daughter's left hand, looking for a wedding band, or, at the least, an engagement ring, but found nothing. So, Alice was living in sin, was she? Alice saw the look and quickly withdrew her hand.

There followed silence, Alice didn't offer to introduce Matthew and he kept quiet. Mrs Harvey sipped her tea, which she could not find fault with, and congratulated herself on finding her elusive elder daughter. She had no hope of landing on the other ungrateful girl, Liz, who had taken great delight, some years ago, in telling her she was leaving the country and she could go to hell! She had voiced her disapproval of her, then, boyfriend, who she decided was an upper class English idiot, and Liz had stuck her nose in the air and waltzed off to begin her new life as Lady Elizabeth Winterley. She heard nothing more except Christmas cards that she ripped up before opening.

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Alice lay with her head on Matthew's chest. Her mother had gone to bed, she had washed the cup and saucer and then she and Matthew had decided there was nothing else they could do, that night, and headed to bed.

She was clearly very angry and was unlikely to sleep easily. Matthew held her close and told her not to worry, tomorrow was Saturday and it was his weekend off.

"We can look for a guest house for her, if you like," he stroked her back, "then find out why she has come to you."

Alice sighed, it was perhaps the best idea, she couldn't do with her staying where she was, but she had a feeling she would be the one picking up the bill for the accommodation.

"She's probably been evicted," she huffed, "it used to happen, when she couldn't pay the rent. She used to blame us girls, for taking her money. We didn't, of course, she just couldn't budget properly. I believe my uncle, who lodged with us, left after I did, no one to push himself on to. Liz, my sister, moved in with friends, not willing to be one of his victims."

"So she believed you," he hummed.

"Oh yes, we shared a room," she shifted against him, "she even backed me up to mother, that earned her a slap."

"Try and get some sleep, love," he kissed the top of her head, "we'll sort something out."

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She finally drifted off in the early hours, noting the last time she looked at the little bedside clock it was three-forty-seven. She knew Matthew had succumbed much earlier, his breathing and heart beat told her so.

Her sleep was remarkably untroubled, and she slept on through her usual waking hour.

Matthew stirred, his arm still round her. Very carefully he moved and flexed his fingers to bring some feeling back. He needed to attend the bathroom, and then perhaps he would make some tea. He couldn't hear any other sounds so Mrs Harvey must still be asleep, he hoped so, he didn't fancy explaining himself to her before at least two cups of tea and some breakfast. He gently extricated himself from under Alice's head and slipped from the bed. She murmured and turned over, the fine silk strap of her nightdress that she had put on just before getting into bed, slipped off her shoulder. He smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, she settled and he knew she would sleep on for a little while.

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He decided against waking Alice or her mother, and sat in the kitchen sipping his first cuppa of the day. Alice once said he drank so much tea that if she cut him open he would bleed the stuff. But, to the issue of Mrs Harvey and her accommodation, he limped, barefoot, to the living room and the phone.

Dialling a number from memory he apologised for the early hour, but the woman on the other end said it didn't matter, she was up anyway. He told how he was looking for a single room for an uncertain length of time. The occupant would be an elderly, but not infirm, female who had come to visit family but there was no suitable accommodation for her.

They had a room that may be suitable, on the first floor, near the bathroom.

"Sounds perfect, Catherine," he smiled, "can I book it? we'll bring Mrs Harvey over this morning."

Catherine Lewis put the phone down and made a note in the booking register. Matthew Lawson was very good at recommending her hotel, after business took a dip when Henry King had been killed there.

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He looked up as the door opened, and steeled himself for a grilling from Alice's mother, he let out a breath as he realised it was a deliciously dishevelled pathologist, bleary eyed and yawning.

"Who ?" she waved her hand at the phone, not awake enough to form a coherent sentence.

"I phoned Catherine Lewis," he stood up and went to hold her, "booked your mother in." He kissed her cheek.

"Oh, thank you, I think," she put her head on his shoulder.

"Well, at least she'll be comfortable there," he let her lean into his chest, "that little bedroom is too small to swing a cat in."

"Yes, you're quite right," she breathed in, "and with me working ... during the day."

"Tea?"

"Please," she followed him into the kitchen.

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She tapped on the bedroom door and went in. Matthew, so much more accustomed to the social niceties, had poured a cup for Mrs Harvey and sent her to bid her mother 'good morning', and see if she could find out why she had turned up, out of the blue.

"Matthew," she had stood with cup in hand, "I ..."

"Go on, love," he smiled softly, "she may talk to you without my presence."

"She'll want to know who you are," she pouted.

"Tell the truth," he looked her in the eye, "you're good at that, and, given that I stayed overnight, which I am sure did not escape her notice, I bet she has a pretty good idea." He ran his hand down her back and gave her bum a gentle squeeze.

"Matthew," she hissed, "don't. She spoiled our fun last night, she always spoils my fun."

"I'll make it up to you," he winked, patted her bum and sent her to be a proper daughter.

She half smiled; touches like that, on a Saturday morning, usually led to abandoned cups and discarded robes. Not today, sadly.

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Mrs Harvey called for her to enter and sat up, slowly. She had slept, not deeply, but at least she had slept. The bed was not particularly comfortable, she supposed her daughter rarely entertained overnight guests, apart from the man that had been silently by her side last night, and he obviously shared her bed.

"Good morning, mother," she advanced to the bedside and placed the cup on the little table.

"Alice," she nodded, and lifted the cup.

Alice looked at her. She looked old, older than her years. She had taken the makeup off she had worn, exposing sallow skin, dry and wrinkled. Her tightly permed hair was contained under a hairnet and the old fashioned nightdress hid the thin body. Her mother had always been thin, Alice remembered, but now she seemed thinner, smaller.

"Why are you here, mother?" she shoved her hands in the pockets of her robe.

"Can't I come and see my elder daughter?" Mrs Harvey huffed back.

"It's been over twenty years, mother," Alice pointed out, "why now?"

"You never write."

"Why should I?" Alice shrugged, "you didn't want me to go to university, I think we said all we had to say the day I left."

"In my day, girls did as they were told, married and had children, not careers."

"That's not true, mother, and you know it," she went to draw the curtains and stare out of the window, "what about all the teachers, they went to university. Marriage and children was not for me. Where's Liz?"

"England," she sneered.

"England?" Alice raised her eyebrows. "Why England?"

"Followed some fellow, married him, I believe." Mrs Harvey wasn't going to tell all, just yet.

Alice decided not to pursue the matter, "we've booked you into a hotel, it will be more comfortable than here, and you can get into town."

"Can't wait to get rid of me, eh?" she sniffed.

"This room is not big enough. I know the bed is uncomfortable and I work, sometimes odd hours," Alice countered, "the hotel is very pleasant and the owner will take good care of you."

"Who's he?" her mother nodded towards the door.

"Matthew," Alice answered simply.

"Live in lover?"

"Sometimes."

She tutted.

Alice left, saying she was going to get dressed.

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Catherine Lewis could not have been more welcoming. Something in Matthew's tone when he had called told her that there was more to the unexpected visitor than it seemed.

She finished her tour with ,"... and if there's anything else we can do for you, Mrs Harvey, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis," Mrs Harvey took the key, "most kind."

Mrs Harvey declined any help from Alice to settle in, so she went to the desk where Matthew was waiting for her.

"Thank you, Miss Lewis," she addressed the hotelier, "please send the bill to me, and here ..." she wrote on a page in her little diary and ripped it out, "... is my number should you need to contact me."

"And you know how to contact me, Catherine, "Matthew added, if you can't get Dr Harvey."

Catherine nodded and smiled.

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Mrs Harvey put her few belongings in the drawers and wardrobe and sat on the bed. She supposed she shouldn't have expected Alice to welcome her with open arms and at least the hotel was pleasant, comfortable and the young lady that ran it most helpful. There was so much to say to Alice but every time she thought about it, it stuck in her throat. Things had happened since her seemingly ungrateful girls had left home, things that had put life into perspective, but to say as much to Alice would be to admit she may have been wrong, and Olive Harvey was never wrong.

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Alice and Matthew decided that they would continue with their original plans for the weekend which were fairly bland and domestic, activities which were spiced up, as so often happened, with Matthew grabbing her bum as she bent over to tuck the fresh bed sheet round the mattress. An hour later he helped her finish off making the bed and carry the used linen to the laundry basket. He had been surprised, when he first started staying over, that Alice was more than capable of doing laundry and housework, but declined to mention it. His contribution to the domestic tasks was to cook for her. It was something he enjoyed and she was not particularly proficient at.

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"Didn't she tell you anything?" Matthew asked over a light lunch.

"Only that Liz moved to England and married," she played with the fruit on her plate, "I think she wants to say something else but can't seem to get the words out."

"Perhaps she wants to admit she may have been wrong?" he suggested.

"Mother is never wrong," Alice huffed.

"No, they aren't are they?" he smiled. "Well, perhaps if we dine with her she might be more forthcoming."

"Oh god, Matthew, must we?" she opened her eyes in horror.

"At least once," he insisted, "perhaps tonight, as we are having lunch with the Blake's, tomorrow."

"Not here," Alice didn't want to prove her mother right, about her kitchen skills, that they weren't as good as perhaps she would expect them to be.

"No, I'll ring Catherine and ask her to put it to your mother that we shall join her tonight."

"What if the old misery doesn't want us to?" Alice gave up trying to eat, she had lost her appetite.

"Then we shall go elsewhere," he smiled and reached across the table to squeeze her hand, "or fish and chips."

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Olive Harvey was surprised to be invited to join her daughter and the Superintendant for dinner that evening, Matthew had turned the suggestion into an invitation. She wasn't sure if she was delighted or not, or even happy but she agreed when Catherine put it to her, especially as Catherine referred to Matthew by his full title - Chief Superintendant Lawson. Alice hadn't even said he was a copper, never mind a senior one, she just said he was 'Matthew'.

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Matthew encouraged Alice out into the garden, there was the grass to cut and some weeding and pruning to do. He had always liked gardening and Alice's little patch was just enough for him to do, if she did the grass. He'd tried using the mower but it made his knee ache. They had thought about getting a powered one but, as Alice remarked, "I can manage this one, and I'm more likely to cut off the wrong part off a plant."

Matthew had planted a jasmine to climb along the fence and it thrived under his care giving off a lovely scent in the evening. Jean had given them a cutting from her gold tooth aloe, that she had brought from the farm when she went to work for Old Dr Blake, and that had also take well, under the kitchen window.

The gardening helped her work off some of her frustrations over her mother so when it came time to change for dinner she was much more relaxed. She showered first, he declined her invitation to share, knowing full well where that would lead.

He slowly pulled the zip of her dress up, finishing with a kiss at the nape of her neck. She held the ends of her necklace for him to fasten and then turned round.

"Lovely," he kissed her cheek, the time to mess up her lipstick would come later. She wore a fitted dinner dress of royal blue silk, an extravagance. It was simply styled, squared neck and short sleeves, hidden pleat in the back skirt seam from the base of the zip to the hem. Her only adornment, the single strand of pearls and matching earrings that Matthew had bought her, for her birthday.

She touched his tie, it matched her dress, and brushed an imaginary hair off the shoulder of his suit jacket.

"Ready?" he offered her his arm.

"As I'll ever be," she smiled and tucked her hand through the crook of his arm. They had decided to take a taxi and possibly walk back, it depended on Matthew's leg and her temper.

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Mrs Harvey was sitting in the lounge sipping a small sherry. She saw Miss Lewis greet her daughter and her companion and show them into the room before going to get their pre dinner drinks. As they walked towards her she noticed Matthew's stick and his limp - wounded in action she wondered?

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Alice was guarded during dinner, she let Matthew lead the conversations, and he was polite and answered her questions about life in Ballarat. She asked Alice about her work and shuddered when she said, quite candidly, that she cut up dead bodies for a living.

"Now, Alice," Matthew teased, "it's more than that. Without you and Lucien testing and pouring over your microscopes we wouldn't be able to solve half the deaths in Ballarat." He turned to Mrs Harvey, "she's a brilliant scientist, Mrs Harvey, you should be proud of her."

Alice waited for the cutting remark, about girls not having careers, but it didn't come. Instead she just nodded politely and muttered something about her daughter always preferring her books.

Alice asked if she had an address for Liz, "perhaps I should get in touch," though she wasn't sure why.

"I think," Mrs Harvey pursed her lips, "given she had gone half way round the world to avoid us, that would be a waste of your time, Alice."

Matthew's hand on her knee told her not to push it, and changed the subject to her accommodation, choosing not to mention the Henry King incident.

"Yes, the room is lovely, thank you," she smiled a little, "and Miss Lewis has been most attentive."

"She is, isn't she," he agreed.

"She told me Sacred Heart is a lovely church," Mrs Harvey sipped a glass of water, "I may attend tomorrow."

Alice did her best not to choke on her wine, her mother dragged her and Liz along when they were children but she had given up when they were in their early teens. Like Lucien, she, herself, had little faith and only attended church if she absolutely had to.

"Don't look at me like that, Alice," she tutted, "I do attend, at home ... sometimes."

"Right," Alice inhaled, "of course."

"I take it you don't," she hummed.

"No, not anymore."

"I tried to bring her up a good Catholic, Matthew," she turned to him, "but both of them had to be dragged along."

"Well, I think I understand her feeling," Matthew leant on the table, "seeing the things she does, we do, it's hard to believe a just God would let them happen."

"And you?" she asked, "do you attend?"

"Weddings, funerals," he muttered.

"Hm ..." she frowned.

"I'm sure you'll find Father Emery an acceptable priest, mother," Alice told her, "he is at Sacred Heart."

The conversation turned to what Mrs Harvey could find to keep her occupied while in Ballarat and, before Matthew called for the bill, they arranged to meet again, during the week for dinner.

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The evening was cool but not unpleasant so they decided to walk home. At a leisurely pace Matthew would be fine.

"And if it hurts, well," he smirked, "perhaps, as a doctor you could recommend something."

"I'm sure I can think of something," she slipped her arm through his and fell into step.

"You're right," he hummed after a while, "she has got something to tell you."

"You saw it too?" she stopped and turned to him, "the way she seemed about to say something, then thought better of it."

"Yes, there is something playing on her mind," he bent forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose, "she's finding her feet, I think, with you. How long has it been?"

"Over twenty years," she fell back in step with him and they carried on towards home, "we've not spoken in all that time, or written or phoned."

"Well, I suppose it is going to take a little time," he said, "you will just have to exercise a little patience."

He heard her sigh but she didn't reply. He shook his head, sadly.

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She leant against the door as he locked it and kicked off her shoes.

"How's the knee?" she asked noticing he leant heavily on his stick.

"Bit sore," he admitted.

"Perhaps heat treatment," she looked from under her lashes, "a gentle rub?"

"Sounds perfect," he smiled and bent down to kiss her, tasting the coffee she had finished her meal with, with a hint of lipstick.

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She pushed her hands under his jacket and slipped it off his shoulders, tiptoeing up to kiss him, he could forget the pain in his knee when she kissed him. He shook the jacket to the floor and put his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him and deepening the kiss. They parted and she hummed her approval, leaning her forehead against his chest.

"Your knee," she took a deep breath and looked up, "come on Superintendant, let's have those trousers off."

"Really, doctor," he laughed, "just the trousers?"

She laughed back and started on his tie and then his shirt buttons, while he dealt with his cufflinks. The shirt dealt with he pulled her against him and pulled the zip of her dress slowly down, sneakily unclipping her bra as he did so and pushing both garments to the floor. She peppered his collar bone with kisses as her hands sought the belt and zip of his trousers, now under considerable strain.

She pushed him to sit on the end of the bed and he reached up to pull her hold-up stockings down, the light touch of his fingers making her shiver. He smirked against her belly then kissed it and blew gently across her navel. She placed a knee either side of his hips allowing him to completely remove her stockings and run his fingers up between her legs. She groaned as he started to touch her through her lace panties, feeling her almost ready for him. He shifted backwards a little, edging his shorts down.

Alice reached down to help removed the shorts and ran her finger up his hardness making him gasp. She stood up and slipped her knickers off, standing before him gloriously naked except for the strand of pearls, looking at him with the most sultry expression in her eyes. He licked his lips and reached out for her lifting her back onto the bed and astride him. She bent down and locked lips with him as his fingers slipped from behind and started to tease her, slip inside her as she rocked against his hand. Sensing her to be close he let her lower herself and guide him into her, then he thrust up as she ground down, gripping his shoulders, marking him with her fingernails. He palmed her breasts, flicked his thumbs over her nipples, their rhythm increased until she screamed his name and arched back, holding him inside her until he spilled into her, grunting against her belly.

They crawled up the bed and under the covers, cuddling and kissing. Both thought they were incredibly lucky, to have found love at this stage in their lives, when the thought of finding a life partner had dimmed and the chance of a surprise pregnancy was all but over.

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They lunched at the Blake's the following day and discussed the visit. Both Jean and Lucien knew of her strained relationship with her mother and were as surprised as Alice was, that she should make an apparently spontaneous visit.

"... and you say she seems to want to tell you something?" Jean tipped her head, "... an apology, perhaps?"

"Oh, I don't know, Jean," Alice sighed heavily, "if that's it I suppose it's not easy to say; to admit she may be wrong."

"True," Lucien agreed, "mother's don't like to be wrong, unless it's when a child does something unexpectedly right." He smiled, thinking of Jack, and how his wife would like to be proved wrong about him.

"Hm ..." she frowned, understanding completely.

"Perhaps it'd be best if you let her work through to it," Lucien turned to Alice, "maybe if you meet her for coffee one morning."

Alice rolled her eyes which made Matthew laugh.

"She tries not to be alone with her," he squeezed her hand.

"Oh, Alice," Jean sighed, "how much damage did she do to you?"

"Quite a lot," Alice admitted, "but, can we change the subject, please? How is Amelia? I thought she was coming to stay."

"She is, next week," Jean brightened, "Christopher and Ruby are going to Canberra. He will be at Duntroon so they are going to set up in Army housing. They thought it would be easier if Amelia was out of the way, until they had the house sorted."

"I expect you will spoil her, rotten," Matthew teased, remembering times he had stayed with his grandmother.

"Grandmother's privileges," Jean laughed, "I can give her back when I've ruined her and they can sort it out."

"You are really looking forward to it, aren't you?" Alice smiled.

"I wish I saw her more often," Jean started to clear the plates, "they don't like taking her on long journeys, in the car."

"What about the train?" Alice lifted her glass, "surely that would be easier, she could wander about in the carriage, couldn't she?"

"That's what I keep telling them," she pursed her lips, "but they don't take any notice. I think it's more a case of Ruby not wanting me to have too much influence on her."

"Ruby, when Jean has been over, has always dressed Amelia in frills and pretty dresses," Lucien mused.

"She's not allowed to play in the garden," Jean sighed, "get dirty, be a child."

"So, she's going to do all that, when she's with you," Alice caught on, "I'm sure she'll have a lovely time."

"I hope so," Jean smiled.

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Alice relented and joined her mother for coffee at a little cafe. Matthew told her it would probably be a good idea, neutral ground. Neither knew how to start a conversation so Mrs Harvey asked if she was busy, at work.

"Not in the morgue," she stirred her drink, "but in the lab. Testing tissue samples."

"Do you ever work on the living?" Mrs Harvey looked into her eyes. "Surely samples and dead bodies ..."

"it's interesting, but yes, I do," Alice nodded over her cup, "I have taken surgery for my colleague, Dr Blake, when he went on his honeymoon."

"Oh, and you and Matthew?" she raised an eyebrow, "will you marry?"

"I don't know," Alice had been expecting such a question, "what we have suits us."

"Alice," she put her cup down, "I, er ..." she gulped and inhaled.

"Mother, are you alright?" Alice saw her grow pale beneath the makeup.

"Oh dear," she whispered, "oh, Alice ..." she slid to the floor.

Alice dropped down beside her, calling for an ambulance, and felt for a pulse. It was there, but irregular and not strong. She lifted her eyelids, seeing blank, staring eyes.

"Don't you bloody die on me, not now," she hissed.


	2. Chapter 2

She paced the floor outside the side room, she had almost begged to be allowed in while her mother was examined, her blood was taken and when she was whisked away to have x-rays done. Matthew appeared at her side. She hadn't called him, or anyone, but Danny Parks had seen the ambulance and gone to question the cafe owners. He had gleaned enough information to alert his commanding officer who had grabbed his stick and told the younger man to drive him over.

"What happened?" he took hold of her elbow and turned her to face him.

"I don't know," she searched his face for answers, "she was about to tell me something, and ... collapsed. Matthew," she almost sobbed, "what if she was here to die, come to me so she wouldn't die alone. That's my greatest fear, what if it's hers?"

Before he could answer the door opened and a doctor came out.

"Dr Harvey," he offered his hand, "Dr Adamson. Your mother is ... she has a tumour, an untreated breast cancer. I greatly fear it has spread, to her bones, there are indications from her x-rays, and to her brain."

"Untreated, how ...?"

"It has eaten away at the breast ... how she has coped with the pain, the physical appearance ... I don't know." He shook his head sadly.

"It's the end, isn't it?" she whispered, "you know what area I work in, Dr Adamson, you may as well be frank with me."

"She has little time, I'm sorry, probably hours ..." he nodded, "would you like to sit with her? You can stay as long as you like."

She pulled herself upright and nodded, "please."

"Would you like me to stay, Alice," Matthew still held her elbow. "It's ok, either way, I'm here."

"I ..." in truth she needed him, but even now, this far into their relationship she struggled to accept such love.

"Right," he smiled and squeezed her arm, knowing that here, in front of the medical staff she would not appreciate the kiss he longed to press to her forehead, "I'll just ring the station, let them know ..."

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She held her mother's hand, stroking the peaked knuckles with her fingers. The skin was dry, thin, fragile.

"You should have told me, mother," she whispered, "I would have understood. I've changed, I see these things, now. I know you wanted to tell me something, and I think I know what, so ... I accept your apology. You have your reasons to believe me, now, so ... I'll try and find Liz, and become friends with her. If you want to go, go. I don't want you to suffer any more."

Matthew slipped in the room just as Mrs Harvey breathed her last words,

"Thank you, Alice."

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After sitting for a while, not shedding any tears, Matthew took her home. He made her tea and called Jean and Lucien, asking them to collect Mrs Harvey's belongings from the hotel and passing on the message that the bill would be settled by Dr Harvey, during the week.

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"No hurry, Dr Blake," Catherine helped to re pack the clothes, toiletries and makeup Mrs Harvey had left in the room. "I know Dr Harvey, and her mother was so quiet, no trouble at all. I thought she was rather sad."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis, but ..." Lucien took out his cheque book, "please let me settle the bill, I'll see Dr Harvey and the Superintendant and sort it out with them."

"If you're sure," she hesitated.

"I am," he stood poised with his pen, "it will be one thing they don't have to worry about."

Jean checked everywhere to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. She pulled out the drawer of the bedside cabinet.

"Hello," she murmured, lifting two envelopes, "seems she left something."

The envelopes were addressed to Alice and Lady Elizabeth Winterley.

"Could that be Alice's sister?" she wondered.

"She did go to England," Lucien pursed his lips, "maybe she married into the aristocracy. Alice didn't seem to know much more than she had left the country, to marry."

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Matthew opened the door and smiled sadly.

"Hello, Matthew," Jean sighed, sadly, "we have collected Mrs Harvey's things, and ..." she held up the envelopes, "... perhaps these will answer some of Alice's questions."

"I think she's in shock," he hummed, "she hasn't said anything, just sits there."

Lucien patted his friend's arm, "she will."

Jean went into the living room and approached Alice. As Matthew said, she was sitting staring at the wall, an empty tea cup in her hand.

"Shall I take that, Alice?" she put her hand round the pathologist's.

"Hm ...?" Alice blinked, "oh, yes, thank you."

"I found these," she showed her the envelopes, "I'll leave you to read them."

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Alice turned the envelopes round in her hand. she wondered how she had come to this, to grieving for the woman who had made her life hell, let her be abused, what had changed? She put the one addressed to her sister down and opened hers. She was grateful for Jean, keeping Matthew and Lucien away, giving her the privacy she needed at this time. She read down the page, her mother's distinctive and elegant copperplate handwriting bringing back memories of rapped knuckles when she couldn't quite get the form right. The further down the page she got the harder it got to read. Mrs Harvey had started by saying sorry, which Alice had come to realise was her whole reason for turning up on her doorstep, and then she went on:

"I never believed you, when you said Uncle Len had done things to you, not even when you hit him with the encyclopaedia. I hated you for what you said, Len was my brother, he helped with the rent, the food bills, why should I believe you? It was only when he was dying, some years after leaving the house; after Liz and I had argued and she had told me to go to hell, that she was leaving the country, to marry some upper class English lord; that he wrote and said you had been telling the truth. He wanted to go to his grave with a clear conscience. But it wouldn't be, would it, not without telling you that he admitted it, though, I am sorry to say he didn't appear to regret it. I am sorry, Alice, really sorry but it has taken this diagnosis, this death sentence to make me realise what I have missed. Matthew said I should be proud of you, and I am, immensely proud of you. You did what you wanted to do, in a man's world. Maybe your life isn't what I wanted for you, marriage, children, but it is your life, and in these few days I have seen that it is the right thing for you. I'm so glad you found Matthew, however you decide to continue this relationship, he is a good man, and he loves you, I can see that, let him. I doubt I will have the courage to tell you this, face to face, so accept this apology and know, Alice, that you must be proud of yourself.

Mother."

She stared at the letter, not realising that a tear was making its way down her cheek until she inhaled and the breath caught in her throat. She began to cry, but that was ok, she was on her own, but the crying became sobbing, deep gulping sobs for all she could have had, and all she would now never have - her mother's love.

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In the kitchen, Matthew and the Blake's waited. Jean wouldn't let either of them go to her.

"She has to read the letter first, see what her mother had to say," she pulled Matthew away from the door, "but, Matthew, she is going to need you like she has never needed you before."

"What do I do, Jean?" he stood looking up the hallway, "for Alice."

"Just be there," she smiled, "you'll know, you know her better than any of us."

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He stood outside the door, the sound of her sobbing had cut at his heart, and he knew that now he should go to her. He pushed open the door and his heart broke. She was sitting on the floor, head on the couch, letter in her hand, her shoulders heaving with every sob and gulp and hiccup.

Matthew slipped down beside her and gently drew her into his arms. He didn't say a word, just held her close and lay his cheek on the top of her head. He reached over and took the letter from her hand. He read it and sighed, if only they had talked sooner. The sobs eventually slowed to sniffles and she cuddled into his chest. Crying so hard was exhausting, coupled with the lack of sleep, since her mother had arrived, Alice just wanted to curl up in Matthew's arms. Matthew felt her slump more and recognised the signs.

"Come on, love," he whispered, levering himself up on the couch.

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He helped her remove her blouse and skirt and settle on the bed. Covering her with a light blanket, he sat and held her hand until she finally succumbed to the sleep she so desperately needed. Closing the door behind him he decided he had better see if there was a phone number for Liz.

In the living room, Jean went through the suitcase and Matthew through the old woman's handbag. Jean found an envelope filled with enough money for a small funeral and her will. She showed it to Matthew and put it to one side for Alice to read, later.

The handbag contained what he supposed was usual. A small purse, cheque book, handkerchief and a little diary, much like the one Alice carried. Flicking through it there were names and addresses crossed out, a new entry for Alice, which must have been put in when she found out where she was, and one for Liz, also newly entered. When she had realised that time was running out she had relented and added Liz's contact details for Alice. Alice had been right when she had voiced her feelings that she was afraid of dying alone, but she had begun to look for Alice after she had the initial diagnosis and refused all treatment. It hadn't been easy. All she knew was that Alice had trained as a doctor and she had literally worked her way through the hospitals in each state until she found her.

Matthew worked out it was late evening in England and he could get away with ringing Lady Winterley, and perhaps it would be better coming from him, a local police officer.

He waited while he was connected, wondering if her Ladyship would want to attend the funeral, or if she would stay away. The voice at the other end of the phone was bright, with a hint of her native accent. He told her who he was; Chief Superintendant Lawson, Ballarat Police; that he was a close friend of her sister's and that it was his sad duty to inform her that her mother had passed away. He heard he sigh.

"So, the old bat foisted herself on Alice did she?" Lady Winterley grumbled, "my poor sister was always first in the firing line. How is Alice?"

"Tired, she's asleep," Matthew accepted a cup of tea from Jean, "your mother has admitted she found out that what Alice had accused her uncle of was true, she came to apologise, to try and mend fences, I suppose. She must have worked hard to find Alice, they hadn't had contact for over twenty years. She only arrived four days ago."

"Funeral?"

"Yet to be arranged, she has left enough for a small affair," Matthew told her.

"Suppose I'd better attend," Liz sighed.

"I think Alice would like that," Matthew started to feel some hope that the two sisters could be reconciled, "if you would like to let us know your travel plans we can sort out some accommodation for you."

"Give me the number," Liz sat poised with a pen, "I'll ring you back when I know. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"No," Matthew thought for a moment, "I believe you can fly via Singapore ..."

"I'll ring you back, around this time tomorrow," she answered.

"Right, I'll let Alice know, when she wakes."

"Give her my love."

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Alice spent the next few days, with Matthew's help, going through her mother's things, not that there was much, and starting to arrange the small funeral for the following week. Liz had confirmed she would attend, given the time she would arrive at Ballarat Station and asked that they book a room for her and her husband, and one for her two boys.

"oh, ask them to put a cot in our room, will you, Alice, for the baby," Liz had grinned down the phone, when she called to say Philip, Lord Winterley, had insisted on accompanying her, and the two boys didn't want to miss out.

"Three children, Liz?" Matthew smirked as she raised an eyebrow, "goodness."

"The last one was a bit of a surprise, a girl," Liz had phoned at a time she could have a decent chat with her sister, "Philip was over the moon. Of course the boys are wonderful, an heir and a spare, but he said he always wanted a little girl to spoil. She's already got him firmly round her little finger, and she's only just coming up to a year."

"Right, well I suppose I'll get to meet them, then," she shook her head and wondered what it would feel like to be addressed as Auntie Alice.

"We'll see you at the station," Liz signed off, "take care, Alice, don't blame yourself."

Funnily enough, Alice hadn't blamed herself, at all, Matthew wouldn't let her. Nor would he let her go back to work with Lucien.

"You need to take some time," he held her close one night, "I'm taking until after the funeral ..."

"... is that alright?" she looked at him.

"Perfectly," he assured her, "now, have you decided what you want to do with these clothes?"

"Well, I suppose the op shop," she held up a cardigan, "they are all in nice condition, nearly new. The nightwear can be thrown, as can the underwear."

They ended up with two piles in the living room, one for the op shop and one for the garbage.

There were no debts to pay, Mrs Harvey had sold anything of any value she had to pay her rent arrears and the fare to Ballarat. There was no jewellery to pass on to her daughters, unless one of them would like her wedding ring or her watch - a pretty silver timepiece, with a small face. Art Deco in style. Alice turned it over in her hands and tentatively tested the winder. It turned easily, so she set the time and wound it up to keep it going. Matthew watched her thinking about whether or not she was going to fight Liz for it. It would look nice on her wrist, he thought, if they were out to dinner.

"I'll put it with the ring," she stood up, "on the dressing table."

"Good idea," he nodded, "and we'd better get a move on, if we are to meet your sister and her family."

"Heavens!" she exclaimed, "is it that time already?"

He smiled, glad that she could lose herself in something like sorting through her late mother's things, and that she now seemed to be more relaxed about what had happened. So much in such a short time, she had remarked over tea that afternoon. He was also grateful that she had heeded his advice to take leave from work, there was more than the death to come to terms with, it was the whole situation, her mother turning up, the difficulty the old woman had had in speaking directly to her daughter. They talked about the letter she had written, obviously on the last evening before her death.

"She must have known," Alice had sighed, "that she didn't have time. Did I tell you the doctors found high dose morphine in a bottle in her coat pocket? I didn't see her take anything, that day, but I don't think it would have made any difference, just taken the edge of the awful pain she must have been in."

"Was there enough ...?" he was hesitant to ask this.

"No," she understood, "and she wouldn't have done it that way, she always said it was the coward's way out."

"Oh, right ..." he hummed. "Anyway," he stood up, "we need to get down to the station, preferably without breaking any speed laws," he raised his eyebrows.

"Hey!" she pushed him gently, "I don't speed!"

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Without breaking any speed laws they arrived at Ballarat station with five minutes to spare. Alice had wondered if she would recognise her sister, after so long.

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Matthew offered her his arm, "family of five, two boys and a babe in arms, looking lost."

The train pulled in and disgorged it's passengers. Alice looked along the platform, trying to spot the family.

"There," Matthew pointed his stick, "that's them, gotta be."

She looked over and there was indeed a family of five, two boys and a babe in arms, looking lost. The woman was slim and elegant, dark hair swept up in a pleat, wearing a lightweight skirt and jacket in fawn gabardine. She carried a little girl, fair curls tied in ribbons. Alice knew he was right, in an instant - Liz hadn't changed that much. She waved and they crossed the busy platform to greet them.

"Well, well, Alice," Liz bent forward to kiss her cheek, "god, you look well."

"So do you, Liz," Alice smiled, "how was your journey?"

"Chaos, always is with this little lot," she grinned, "Philip, come and meet my sister, Alice; Alice - Philip."

The man she introduced Alice too was very tall, fair and slender. His blue eyes twinkled, like Lucien's did when he was teasing Jean, they shook hands and Alice introduced Matthew.

"Good to meet you, Matthew," Liz smiled, "thank you, for looking after Alice, though I'm sure she thinks she doesn't need looking after."

"Hm ..." he grinned.

"Well," Alice went slightly pink, "perhaps we'd better show you to your hotel, The Royal Cross ..."

"Is that where ...?"

"No, we thought it would be better if you went elsewhere," Alice muttered, "it's not far."

"Right," Liz turned to the boys, "come on you lot," she pointed to each in turn , "this one's Charles, Charlie to his friends and family, t'other's David." The boys dutifully stepped forward to shake hands with their Aunt and the Superintendant. "This is Mary; Mary Alice Elizabeth, to give the poor child her full handle." The little girl, watching from under her impossibly long eyelashes, sucked her thumb. Alice smiled gently at her.

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With the use of a taxi to transport the Winterley family they headed to the hotel where they were shown to the rooms.

"We'll leave you to settle in," Matthew passed a suitcase over to Philip, "we thought we could meet up, tomorrow. Alice and Liz can finalise the arrangements ..."

"Splendid idea," Philip agreed, "here or ...?"

"if you don't mind a picnic in the garden ..." Alice offered shyly, "the children would be freer, we thought ..."

She and Matthew had discussed this and, with a little help from Jean they had decided it would be easy to do, and she and Liz could go and sit in the living room to make any last minute adjustments to the funeral.

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It was easier, to have a picnic in the garden. Jean had helped prepare quiche, sandwiches and salads, cake and biscuits and a large bowl of fruit salad.

"Thank you, for this," Alice took the plates out of the cupboard, "I'll return the dishes probably tomorrow."

"Any time, Alice," Jean smiled as she left, "We'll see you at the funeral, and if Liz wants to leave Mary with Amelia, I have asked Margaret Reid to babysit, with her little one."

"That's kind of you, Jean," Alice had wondered about the wisdom of having a not quite one year old at a funeral, or the boys, "I'll ask her. Would it be alright if the boys stay too, I think a funeral for someone they have never met, at their age ..."

"Let me know, they are old enough to help, aren't they."

"Charlie is ten, David nearly eight, so I suppose so," Alice mused, she had little idea of the capabilities of children at that age.

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Alice and Liz left their respective partners to get acquainted and sat in the living room going over what their mother had wanted for her funeral. Alice had spoken to Father Emery and he had agreed to hold a short service at the cemetery. There would be no hymn, just a short prayer and blessing.

"Did you go, to the funeral home?" Alice asked, "you said ..."

"I did," Liz sighed, "it's the first time I can remember her looking calm, peaceful. She always seemed angry. I felt sorry for the old trout, for once."

"Honestly, Liz," Alice shook her head, "the things you call her."

"That's nothing," Liz admitted, "for years I have had nothing good to say about her. I'm sorry she had to go the way she did, it's a horrible way to die, but she made life hell, for both of us."

"What did she say," her sister sighed, "in her letter?"

"That she was sorry, that she should have answered the Christmas cards I sent, that she realised she pushed me away, but, given what she found out about Uncle Len, it was probably for the best."

"Matthew says she must have felt betrayed, by him," Alice leant back on the couch, "when she found out we were telling the truth. Hurt, maybe, and confused."

"Probably."

"Oh, Jean says if you want to leave the children at theirs, tomorrow," Alice changed the subject, "she has a friend babysitting her granddaughter just while we are at the cemetery."

"Oh, right, well," Liz was surprised at the generosity of a woman she had only just met, "I suppose, at least Mary. I'll ask the boys, I don't think they really want to go to a funeral, they just wanted to come to Australia."

"I never asked, do they have titles, with you and Philip being titled?"

"Honourables." Liz grinned, "Charlie will inherit the title one day, the other two will stay 'Honourable'."

"That's it!" Alice exclaimed, "I couldn't remember."

"Remember what?" Liz was confused.

"Oh, Matthew and I were talking about our relationship and how people don't seem to worry that we aren't married." Alice shrugged, "we went to a dinner, in Melbourne, hosted by the Commissioner and his wife, and they didn't see it as an issue if Matthew were to be up for promotion. I couldn't remember what her title was, her father was an English lord. She's The Honourable Phryne Robinson. She was quite relaxed, said I was good for him."

"Girls can't inherit titles, even if there is no male heir, the title goes to the next nearest man," Liz rolled her eyes, "or if she had a boy, it can skip a generation."

"On that I have no idea," Alice stood up, "shall we go and join the men, have something to eat."

"If the boys haven't scoffed the lot," Liz agreed, "Charlie and David are like hoovers when it comes to food."

"I have to admit Jean has made a lot of it," Alice laughed, "Matthew is a better cook than I am, but Jean makes the better quiche."

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The boys were indeed 'hoovers' and there was nothing left but crumbs when they had finished. Mary had crawled around eating off everybody's plates, she wasn't even put off by Auntie Alice, who seemed a little out of her depth with the children. Liz smiled to herself, her sister was very different to what she thought she would be after all this time. David had engaged his aunt in conversation about dead bodies when he found out she spent some of her days cutting them up, as she described it.

"It's like a puzzle," she told him, "trying to find out why someone has died."

At eight years old, his parents thought it was a little early for him to be thinking about how he was going to earn a living, keep a family, but he had always been interested in science, Philip noted, "so, maybe we have another pathologist in the family."

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"This is very good of you, Jean," Liz smiled as they arrived to leave the children with Margaret and her little boy, Stephen, and Amelia.

"Well, I didn't think a funeral was the place for Mary," Jean showed them through and introduced them. "I take it the boys have made up their own minds?"

"Yes, David wants to attend, he's the more macabre of the two, far too much like his aunt," she whispered, "but Charlie says he'll stay and help Mrs Reid with the children."

"Lovely," Jean smiled as Lucien came round the corner from the study, "ah, there you are, dear," she passed him his hat, "shall we?"

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It was a short funeral. Father Emery gave a reading and a blessing, Philip hauled David back from the edge of the grave before he followed his grandmother to the next life, which made both Alice and Matthew smile, and they dropped handfuls of soil over the coffin. A small wreath of flowers from Alice and Matthew and one from the Winterleys was placed where the headstone would eventually stand and, after thanking the priest for his kindness they headed back to the Blake's, where Jean had prepared food and Lucien had put some wine to chill in the fridge.

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With the children playing in the living room and later in the garden the adults could talk, about Mrs Harvey, how Alice took after her in the kitchen.

"Not fair, Liz," Alice teased, "I don't remember you being much better."

"Pax," Liz held up her hands, "you got me there."

"Auntie Alice," David tugged the hem of her jacket, "what happens now, to the body?"

"David," his father warned.

"It's alright, Philip," she looked across at him then down at her nephew, "not here, David, it'll put everyone off their food. Perhaps tomorrow."

"Great," his eyes lit up.

"Alice, you shouldn't encourage him," Liz chastised, playfully.

"It will either put him off altogether or give him the push to do his best and study hard to get to university."

"So, Philip," Lucien refilled the Baron's glass, "any plans while you are here?"

"We've got a month, so we thought we would stay in Ballarat for a week, Liz wants to spend some time with Alice, if work allows, then, Melbourne and after that, who knows," he raised his glass. "I'm glad they've found each other. Liz talks very fondly of Alice, and I know she asked her mother countless times if she had an address but, as you know, she never replied. We are hoping that we can persuade Alice and Matthew to come and spend some time with us, in England. I know, with Matthew's position it won't be very easy ..."

"He's not one for taking leave, well not until he met Alice," Lucien smiled at the changes he had noticed in his normally grumpy old friend, "they took a week, earlier this year, but he's probably accrued quite a bit of time owed. You can only ask."

"And Alice?"

"Hm ..." he thought, "she takes a week, once a year, but doesn't go anywhere, perhaps to an exhibition, maybe out for the day with Jean and I refuse to let her join me at the morgue at Christmas, which she has spent with us for the past two years. We can always work something out. She stood in for me when I took Jean on an extended honeymoon, so maybe she's owed some time."

"Food for thought," Philip mused.

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"I think that's a lovely thought, Alice," Liz was saying as Philip went to tell her it was time they left the Blake's and took the children back to the hotel. The evening was wearing on and even Charlie was beginning to flag. "What do you think, Philip?"

"About?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Mother's watch and wedding ring," she showed the items to her husband, "Alice and I don't want to fight over them so she has suggested they are kept for Mary, when she's old enough."

"What about you, Alice?" he took them and looked at them, closely, "the watch is lovely, quite a fine piece."

"I won't be having any children, Philip, not now," Alice smiled, "so, I think, on balance, as Mary is the only female descendant, perhaps mother would have wanted her to have it."

"Well, thank you, it's a lovely gift and we shall make sure she appreciates it."

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Matthew smiled. They had left the Blake's shortly after the Winterleys and gone home. Alice had had a bath, on her own and slipped into bed while he locked up and hung his suit up. She was now fast asleep, on her side, her hair flopped over her cheek. Much as he would have loved to take her round the universe and back again, he knew she needed some sleep, and it looked like she would get it.

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Alice managed to spend some time with her sister with and without the family, mainly because Lucien arranged that she had a phased return to work, and only worked in the mornings, until lunchtime, when she would go and meet Liz and they would talk about the past twenty or so years. Liz told her that they had a small estate in the middle of England which came with the usual additions, stables, gardens, a leaking roof ...

"Though we have patched up that, now," she laughed. "We have a deer park, and game shooting in season, got to make the place pay. Philip, you may have guessed, is a jeweller and watchmaker ..."

"I did wonder, when he commented about mother's watch ..." Alice nodded.

"... hm, so he has a workshop in one of the old stables and takes commissions." Liz tipped her head in thought, "Alice, you and Matthew, you must come over sometime, please."

"I don't know, Liz," Alice hummed, "it would mean taking an awful lot of leave, for me _and_ Matthew, to make it worthwhile."

"Think about it, the invitation is always there," Liz decided pushing it, it was the best way to get Alice to shut off from the idea and she really did want her to visit.

"Thank you," Alice said, meaning it, she would discuss it with Matthew, one evening.

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 **One month later:**

They waved as the plane took off, knowing that it was most unlikely they could be seen.

"So, next Christmas in England, then," Matthew put his arm round her.

"Looks like it," she leant her head on his shoulder, and they watched until the plane was little more than a speck in the sky, before wandering away to the car, hand in hand.


End file.
